Six Hours
by TigerLily888
Summary: Scenes following '200'. Emily and the team, but especially Emily and Hotch. Has their time finally come? Six shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Hour 1**

"Hey."

Emily smiled when she heard JJ's voice. "Hey back."

JJ slid into the booth next to her and Emily looked closely at her friend's face. "Are you ok?" She knew JJ wasn't ok. How could she be? But she still had to ask.

JJ smiled, and lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. "I will be."

Emily nodded. "You know how proud I am of you, right? How proud we all are."

JJ shook her head. "I was only doing what I was trained to do."

Emily gripped her friend's hand. "I've been in this business a long time, JJ. Trust me when I tell you that you're an exception."

Biting her lip, JJ looked up, her blue eyes clouded. "Thanks. But, I think...I think I'm going to need some help." Emily could barely hear her over the music and the hum of conversation around them. But she did.

"You'll get through this. I promise. I did. Hotch did." She glanced over at Hotch who was leaning against the bar, talking to Dave. She was doing a lot of that tonight. Looking at him. She didn't really know why. Or maybe she did.

As if sensing her gaze on him, he looked over, and their eyes met. Something intangible passed between them in that moment. She saw him frown. Then JJ's hand tightened on hers and Emily came to her senses enough to look back at her friend. "Call me, anytime. Night or day. I may not be here in person, but I will always be at the other end of the line."

"Thanks. That really means a lot to me." JJ tilted her head to the side. "How are you?"

It was Emily's turn to shrug. "I'm doing ok. The job's great. I love the excitement and the chase. It's really unbelievable the resources we have at our disposal. And my team is really great. London's pretty great too."

"Hmm..." JJ nodded. "So everything's great, huh?"

Emily made a face. "I said 'great' too many times, didn't I?"

JJ smiled. "Yep."

Pen plonked down three brightly coloured cocktails onto the table before sitting down with a sigh. She gave them a look. "Uh oh. You guys have been doing some heavy duty talking while I was gone," It was a rhetorical question. "That's totally fine, and I know you need to, but just for the next little while, can we pretend we're on our usual girls' night out that we used to have? You know, vastly exaggerating our sexual exploits and ogling cute guys' butts and pecs and the occasional impressive crotch?"

Emily and JJ looked at each other, then burst out laughing.

Their bespectacled friend grinned. "So, Em, what's going on with the bed traffic at No. 5 Pembridge Square in Notting Hill? Ps. I've watched Notting Hill no less than 8 times. 'I'm just a girl, standing before a boy, asking him to love her.' Oh Julia Roberts," Pen sighed, and the other two laughed again.

"Pen, you have no idea how much I've missed you. And, before you ask again, there has been no traffic of any kind in my bedroom." Emily took a sip of the neon green drink, grimacing at the sickly sweet taste and the harsh burn of alcohol. "Holy crap, what is this?"

"Don't ask, don't tell," said Pen. "Really? No sex? Of any kind?"

"Mm... there's my trusty B.O.B."

"That's kinda sad." This from JJ.

"You don't say," said Emily wryly. "I seem to be perpetually at work. And even when I'm at home, I'm still working." She felt a prickle at the back of her neck and looked around to find Hotch staring at her. She swallowed, trying to ease her suddenly dry throat.

"Wow, Hotch. Intense, much?" breathed Pen. "Why's he staring at you, Em?"

"He's not. I'm sure he's just checking to see JJ's all right."

"Um, yeah, he's not," said JJ. "Also, that's not the first time he's looked at you that way."

Suddenly breathless, Emily broke off her eye contact with Hotch, feeling slightly panicky as adrenaline surged through her. "What way?" She grabbed the cocktail glass.

"The one that says give me the slightest encouragement and you'll find yourself doing the two-backed beast before you can say Behavioural Analysis Unit," retorted Pen.

Emily choked on the next sip of her cocktail, coughing violently. "What the hell? Hotch is not looking at me that way," she finally gasped.

Pen and JJ looked at each other.

"Twenty bucks," said JJ, a light shining in her eyes for the first time that night.

"Coward. Fifty, plus the winner gets to crow about it for a week."

JJ's eyes narrowed. "Deal."

Emily groaned. "What are you guys talking about? Or should I even ask?"

"Fifty bucks says Hotch gets into your pants tonight. JJ thinks, what. First base?" Pen raised her eyebrows.

JJ nodded. "First base. Come on, Hotch is a gentleman."

Emily gaped at her friends. "You're both crazy. Like certifiably crazy."

"Takes one to know one," retorted Pen smugly.

Emily shook her head vigorously. "Hotch and I - totally professional relationship. There're boundaries that we don't cross." She chose to ignore the fact that she had had the biggest crush on him for the longest time. That didn't count because she didn't cross any lines back then. Sometimes, when she was lying in bed, she wished she had.

Her friends stared at her.

"For goodness sake, what?!" exclaimed Emily, frustrated at their silence.

"He's looking at you again," said JJ, casually picking up her drink as if she hadn't just dropped yet another bombshell.

Emily felt her heart leap into her throat. She turned her head ever so slightly. Oh God, so he was. His eyes were intent, totally focussed on her. As if she was the only person in the room.

"Oh, shit," she breathed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to all you lovely people who sent me a review. It makes me glad I'm writing again. Here's chapter two, I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

><p>He was in such deep shit.<p>

Hotch stared at the amber liquid at the bottom of his glass. What the hell did he think he was doing? Staring at her as if he was in first grade and she was his first ever crush. He couldn't have been more obvious if he had tried. Oh, he had managed to play it cool at first. Talking with the team, celebrating the fact that JJ was safe and well. He'd even laughed at a couple of Dave's slightly asinine comments.

Yet he was entirely aware of her the entire time. He had told himself that the jolt he had felt when he had first heard her voice on his cell was merely a result of the adrenaline he was feeling. And the fact that he hadn't spoken to her in a long while. It had been eighteen months, and he still missed her. He missed her insight, her counsel, her quick wit.

Most of all, he missed _her_.

It had felt so damned good to have her by his side again. So natural. As if no time had passed at all. There had been no need for words. Barely a need for any communication at all. They knew each other so well. Sure, he worked well with everyone in the team, but with Emily… He couldn't explain it. Even with all his years of experience in this job, he wasn't able to rationalise this connection he felt between them. Part of it was the similar experiences they had had at the hands of their respective tormentors. Part of it was the fact that their characters were so alike. But that didn't completely explain it.

It was just one of those inexplicable things.

And now he couldn't stop looking at her. That first stolen glance had been a bad idea. He had been like an alcoholic long denied of liquor taking a sip of the best cabernet sauvignon money could buy. All he wanted was to drink the entire bottle. No, not just drink, consume. Bottle and all. Damn it. He sighed. He must have had too much to drink to be comparing Emily to a bottle of Screaming Eagle cabernet circa 1992.

The hair at the back of neck prickled and he froze. _She's not looking at you. Don't be stupid. Do. Not. Look. Around._

"Don't look now but Emily's checking you out." Dave took the barstool beside him.

Hotch groaned inwardly.

Dave raised his brows. "So what's going on?"

Hotch tried giving his friend a blank look. "I don't know what you mean."

Dve shook his head. "Well, that was lame, especially for you. I work in the BAU, remember? I've seen the way you've been looking at her tonight. Any more intense and you're going to set her alight."

Hotch opened his mouth and closed it again. "I don't know what's come over me," he finally admitted.

Dave's eyes crinkled. "Man, you have no idea what I _really_ want to say to that statement." He held up his hands when his unit chief frowned. "You miss her.""

"We all do."

"Yeah, but we don't all have the same bond with her that you have."

Since that was exactly what Hotch had thought just moments ago, objecting would have been somewhat hypocritical.

Dave hadn't finished. "So, you spoken to her yet?"

"No." Truth be told, he was nervous. Stupid, he knew. He tossed back the rest of his scotch, welcoming the burn.

"You've got it bad," said Dave, looking thoughtfully at him.

"It's not like that." It wasn't. It was more than that. More than he had ever allowed to let himself feel while he had been her unit chief and she, his subordinate. Then Beth had come into his life, and then Emily had left. Now Beth was gone and Emily was here. And he didn't have a clue what to do about it.

"Tell her."

Hotch let out a sound that sounded like a laugh, but he wasn't laughing. Not even close. "What's the point? She's going back to London in six…" he checked his watch, "…no, five hours." Then what?

"Hotch, tell her." Dave's voice was insistent. "Life's too short for regrets."

Too late. He had regrets the size of Alaska. "I'll think about it." He said it partly to shut Dave up and partly because maybe he might think about it. He was a coward when it came to personal relationships. More importantly, this was Emily. _Emily_. The one person who had seen him at his most vulnerable. He didn't even dare think about how he would feel if she rejected him.

"You lawyers think too much." Dave's tone was so mild that Hotch didn't expect what came next.

"Hey Prentiss!" Dave hollered. "Come 'ere a minute!"

"_Dave!_ What the hell are you doing?" hissed Hotch, feeling his heart racing. He didn't look to see if she was coming. He didn't dare.

"Calm down or you're going to get a heart attack. That's not going to impress her."

"Dave, I'm going to – " He didn't get a chance to finish his threat.

"SSA Rossi. You shouted?"

Hotch's breath stuttered in his chest. There it was. The voice that he dreaded and yet yearned to hear. She was so close that he could smell the delicate scent of the _eau de toilette _that she had on.

"Sorry bout that."

Hotch turned around to see Dave kiss Emily on the cheek.

"Hotch wants to talk to you. I need to visit the head, but I understand we're all going to get a bite after this, so I'll catch up with you then?"

Emily nodded, smiling. "Sure. You get to tell me all about the new book."

"You got it." Dave walked away, whistling 'It Had to be You'.

Hotch suppressed the urge to throw his empty glass at his old friend and summoned up a smile as Emily slid into Dave's seat.

"You're going to regret asking him about his book, you realise," he murmured as he nodded to the bartender for a refill. "Vodka and lime for the lady." He had overheard her earlier order.

Emily's lips were still curved in a smile. God, she was beautiful. He couldn't believe he had forgotten how gorgeous she was. "What's this?" she teased. "Here I thought you were a gentleman. Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"What if I am?" The words slipped out involuntarily. Shit.

Her smile faltered, those luminous midnight eyes stared unblinkingly at him.

Double shit. He racked his brain for some way to retract his unbelievably stupid question. Unfortunately, his scotch-plus-Emily addled mind won't cooperate and he could only look dumbly at her.

"I'd say…" She licked her lips.

His entire body tensed, both in anxiety for her answer and in response to her action, which had made her bottom lip glisten. The latter drew a different physical response.

"I'd say there's probably no need to." Her voice was so low that he thought for a moment he had dreamt up her reply.

Only the slight trace of apprehension in her eyes assured him of the truth. He felt dizzy. He prayed he won't pass out.

"Emily, I – "

"Yo, you two!" They both looked up at the Morgan. "We're heading out to the steak house on the corner. You coming?"

"Um…" Emily looked at Hotch. "We'll catch up," she called back to Morgan.

Neither one of them looked to see if the rest of the team left with Morgan. The bartender arrived with their drinks.

"So, what were you about to say?" she asked, eyes fixed on his. Her voice was slightly husky, and Hotch felt a current run through him.

He stared at her, his heart pounding in his ears, his palms damp with perspiration. _Come on, you lily livered coward._

He finally opened his mouth. "I want you."

Her eyes flared with shock.

_Fuck_. That was _not_ what he meant to say.


End file.
